AllFreeNovel
Share Us
1. preston
Edge of Seventeen
“I need help,”a young woman on the other end of the call tells me. I can hear the emotional hitch in her voice, and I know already that I haven’t had enough coffee today.
I balance the phone between my shoulder and my ear as I pick up an overflowing stack of papers and mail from my desk and walk it to the front of the office to drop onto what should be my office manager’s desk. Though that’s a position I can’t seem to fill. This pile of paperwork is going to be tomorrow’s problem, I think to myself.
“Okay, what’s going on?” I pick up my pen out of habit and rest it against my yellow legal pad as I wait for the caller to respond.
“My name is Paige Mills. I signed a lease for my new bookstore and home and packed up my entire life to come here. I arrived in town late last night to find that the building is now occupied by some other business, and my keys don’t work.”
“Did you contact your landlord?” I ask.
I lean back, squeezing the bridge of my nose. A headache is already forming. I’ve already gotten a few calls like this. Being one of the few attorneys here in the small town of Freedom Valley makes me the go-to for every issue imaginable. I don’t mind, though. I’ll deal with Mrs. Winters, the retired librarian, and her rose bush war with her neighbor any day over what I dealt with daily back in Boston. When I practiced family law and handled some of the ugliest, cruelest divorces and custody cases. It made me really rethink the whole idea of marriage and family, not that I’ve ever had the best role models.
The only person I really consider family these days is Evelyn, and we’re not even related. Though our situations are similar. After Evelyn’s family abandoned her, she became my very first client here. She needed help getting into an assisted living facility and handling her affairs. She’s become special to me over the short time we’ve known each other.
“Of course I did.” Now she sounds irritated. “I’m not an idiot. The number is out of service. I got scammed.”
“Okay, let’s figure this out,” I say, trying to remain calm, hoping she’ll bring it back down a notch and realize I’m only trying to help. “What’s the address of the building?”
“Three-eleven Main Street.” She sighs like I’m not keeping up.
I’m confused. That’s the address for my new law practice. Is this a prank? Did my brother Blake put her up to this to mess with me? Wouldn’t put it past him. He’s always been an immature asshole, despite him being older than me. He’s never taken being an attorney seriously, and he’s only ever taken on about a quarter of the cases I do because he doesn’t want work to cut into his afternoon tee time or trips with various women, usually to gamble in Las Vegas.
Despite working circles around my brother and billing an extraordinary number of hours more than him, my father promoted Blake to partner and left me taking on an even bigger workload while keeping me at my meager junior salary. That’s part of the reason I left. I’m not cheap labor for the family firm anymore.
“Are you even listening to me?” Paige snaps me back into reality. Geez, I really need an office manager to field these calls and help me out here. I can’t even focus.
“Yes, I’m sorry,” I counter, still trying to understand why she thought she rented my building.
“Why are you in the building I rented?” she asks.
“I own this building,” I explain. “I’m not renting it.”
“Well, someone must knowsomething. I can’t just lose all my money and have nowhere to go,” she says, growing even more upset. “Do you have proof that you own the building?”
Now it’s my turn to get irritated. “Do you have proof thatyouleased the building?” My patience gets thinner as this conversation progresses. Theo’s head pops up from where he’s curled up on his dog bed, and he watches me, noticing a hitch in my voice.
“How do I know you’re not the scammer?” she hedges.
“Look, I don’t know what’s happening here, but you need to find your landlord and try to get your money back. I can’t help you.” This conversation is going downhill fast. I need to abort.
“I have no way to do that,” she says. I can feel her getting even more worked up. And honestly, I’m sure I’d feel the same way if I was in her shoes. For a moment I wonder if I do even own the building, but I know I looked over all the contracts myself and closed with a reputable title company. I’m sure the purchase was legitimate.
“You’re the only person Icancontact,” she pleads. “He’s gone. You’re here. I need you to fix this. Please.” Her defiant tone now sounds defeated.
“I can’t fix something I didn’t break,” I reply. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to contact your landlord,” I say with finality. “Figure it out.”
“So there’s nothing you can do for me?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
“Then thanks for nothing!” She abruptly disconnects the call.
I lean forward and put my forehead in my hands. I need help if I’m going to make it work here in Freedom Valley. But first, I need a coffee run. I look over at the counter where I’m supposed to have a coffee bar set up. Even that still needs to be done. I make a mental note to move getting coffee set up in here to the top of my list, but it’s not going to happen today.
I step out into the bright sunshine and head over to the bakery. It’s a beautiful day, but that’s not doing anything to ease my mood. I’m still riled up from that call. I want to help every person I can, but sometimes I can’t if they don’t have the information I need. Besides, her attitude sucked, and I have plenty of other client work right now.
